


Turtle

by kalijean



Series: Arch to the Sky [60]
Category: due South
Genre: Arch to the Sky, Chicago (1998), Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-16
Updated: 2011-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-23 19:12:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/253908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalijean/pseuds/kalijean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>June 1998: In which we learn the fate of Kowalski's turtle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turtle

Harding Welsh wasn't so much an animal kind of guy.

Kowalski had been sort of awkward asking him for the favor. Welsh didn't blame him. As favors went, this one was pretty weird, but he got it. It wasn't like anyone would want to trust Dewey or Huey with the care of a living thing. Frannie found the thing creepy. What with Vecchio laying it on heavy with the guy's ex-wife, Welsh didn't figure Kowalski was gonna go looking for any favors there. Turtles didn't really belong in a morgue, either, and nobody wants their pet coming back from vacation smelling like dead guy, so Mort was out.

So Welsh found himself sharing an office.

Whatever the turtle's name was, Kowalski neglected to mention before he took off for the Northwest Passage or whatever. As far as Welsh was concerned, the turtle's name was Turtle.

At first he thought it was about as useless as a paperweight. Welsh never liked paperweights, and this one had a habit of soiling the desk if he left it out, which didn't so much work for official paperwork. There were times when he honestly considered 'accidentally' knocking the thing in the trash and writing Kowalski to say the thing ran away.

It was a city turtle. It could survive.

Welsh had a sudden image of the thing sitting with a bunch of winos around a flaming trashcan, paper bag-covered bottle in one paw. Foot. Paw? What the hell do you call whatever a turtle has?

Nah. He was a bigger softie than he liked to admit. He'd never do it.

Kowalski would never buy it anyway. How does a turtle run away? _Sorry, Kowalski. It was the damndest thing. You know how it goes. Couldn't keep up in my old age._

Welsh was stuck with the thing, so he figured he might as well get used to it.

Trouble was, he'd started to talk to it. Sure, it was a little weird, but Welsh was used to weird. Just had to stick his head out the office door to get a lifetime's worth of weird if he wanted it. It was when he got _caught_ that it was a problem.

"I guess you're not that bad. A lot less trouble than your owner. More productive, too. Just gotta make sure we don't import any Canadian turtles, otherwise I'll come back to find out you blew up a dry cleaner's to catch a serial litterer and ended up bailing him out all in the same day."

"God, not you too."

Welsh wasn't the type to jump; he swung a steady look Vecchio's way at that. "You wanna repeat that, Detective?"

Vecchio straightened up. "Sorry, sir. Thought you might be talking to yourself."

Flicking some turtle food into the tank, Welsh turned to smoothly take his seat. "Oh? And you felt it was your business to comment if I was?"

"No, sir, course not, sir. I was just starting to wonder if it was contagious, sir."

"Are you a doctor, Vecchio? Picked up a medical degree in Vegas, did you?"

"No, sir."

"So do you think maybe you ought to be keeping amateur diagnoses to yourself, Detective?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." Welsh tapped his desk with two fingertips; the file folder Vecchio was carrying was obediently placed there. He flicked his hand in one smooth shooing motion and Vecchio walked away, probably muttering something, but Welsh let it go.

Welsh opened it smoothly, perusing the contents. It was a moment before he flicked a look back to the tank.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Jesus, I was talking to a turtle. I'm gonna kill Kowalski if Canada doesn't."


End file.
